


Statement of Rosalind Baker, 10/04/2017

by alwaysyourqueen



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Isolation, Murder, Original Statement (The Magnus Archives), Past Abuse, Statement Fic (The Magnus Archives)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23808202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysyourqueen/pseuds/alwaysyourqueen
Summary: Statement of Rosalind Baker, regarding her mother and brother’s murders and her subsequent experience with her foster father. Statement taken direct from subject by Nieves Soares, October 4th, 2017.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Statement of Rosalind Baker, 10/04/2017

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the content warnings! There's nothing too intense but please keep them in mind.

[Click.]

**ARCHIVIST**

Sit down at the desk, if you don’t mind.

**ROSALIND**

Um, thank you.

**ARCHIVIST**

Could you- Sorry if this is a weird question, but could you tell me your name again?

**ROSALIND**

I get that a lot. Rosalind Baker. You can just call me Rosie, though.

**ARCHIVIST**

Rosie, then. You said this is about?

**ROSALIND**

Two things really. Um…the circumstances with my mom dying, and then my foster home. If it’s okay to talk about both. I haven’t really talked about it with anyone but my therapist.

**ARCHIVIST**

That’s perfectly fine, I’d rather you get all your thoughts out now.

**ROSALIND**

That’s good to hear. Is there anything else I should say right now?

**ARCHIVIST**

No, let me just get a bit recorded to start.

**ROSALIND**

Mm, yep, okay.

**ARCHIVIST**

Statement of Rosalind Baker, regarding her mother and brother’s murders and her subsequent experience with her foster father. Statement taken direct from subject on October 4th, 2017. Statement taken by Nieves Soares, archivist of the Usher Foundation. Statement begins. You can start whenever you’re ready.

**ROSALIND**

My parents were very loving people. I know a lot of people say that about their parents, but it’s true. I was never afraid to come home from school, I wanted to spend more time with my parents than most kids, actually. Even my brother Jackson thought I was a little too happy with our family sometimes, but he was older and so he knew better or whatever. At least, that was the case until about fourth grade, I think? And around Christmas I started to notice my dad getting…weird. Like, he had never been angry or snapped at my mom before. Or at least, not in a way I noticed. I was eight years old, and I had never heard voices louder than a slight yell to come down from my room. Now, they were getting into shouting matches, and I think my dad even hit my mom sometimes. It got really upsetting, and Jackson and I started staying later and later after school.

This had been going on for maybe three months when it all got worse. My dad was shouting so loud, and I hid under my bed. I heard Jackson shout back at him, I think trying to protect my mom. Then there was a lot of screaming, and I was crying because I felt so unsafe. I heard more screaming and then it was quiet. I didn’t know it at the time, but this was the point that our neighbors called the cops, and I was just hoping that whatever my dad was doing wouldn’t get to me.

I only talked to my dad twice after that. He found me in my room around the time the cops came in, and he tried to talk to me. He was so much calmer than he’d been for months. I don’t know what happened, or what changed, but it was like there was a look in his eye. Like he was seeing clearly, if just for a moment. The second time I spoke to him was when I was at his court case, and he was sentenced to twenty years. I didn’t get it at the time, but I knew I wasn’t going to be seeing him again, and I just told him, “Bye, Dad.” And he said to me, “Bye, Rosie,” with this sort of resignation. I don’t know…it was really weird for my eight year old mind to process.

So, at this point, I’m eight years old, removed from school for trauma reasons, and I don’t have any family to speak of. The only relatives I have are my grandparents, and both of them are in care facilities because of medical conditions. Not really ideal for raising a kid. So I get to the foster system. Turns out, there’s a fantastic place for me right there in Oregon. A man named Louis Abel, who takes care of a lot of foster children to try and give them a sense of community with other people who need family. My case worker jumped on it immediately, and within a month I was placed in Mr. Abel’s care. It was always Mr. Abel, not Dad or even Louis.

I was quiet at this point, and the only socialization I really wanted was the interactions with the court-mandated therapist. I liked talking to her because she didn’t talk down to me, and expected me to speak my mind about what was bothering me or what was going on with me. Other than that, I pretty much kept to myself. I turned to books for escapism a lot. I loved to read, and I read everything. My favorites were fantasy books, particularly long series or the massive books that a nine year old can barely handle carrying around. All this to say that I was very content to sit around and read books all day and not really make friends.

I read more and more books, and I stopped doing as much social at school. It helped that I was at a new school, and everyone knew someone who lived in Mr. Abel’s house was weird. No parents, or terrible parents, or they did something really bad. There was a lot of gossip about me and about my foster siblings. Not that any of them ever felt like siblings…I never really got along with any of them. We were more like, business associates than anything. Talking about chores, or taking turns with the bathroom. But we didn’t bicker or get along like most siblings did. We just happened to live in the same house. Mr. Abel encouraged us to pursue our own interests, usually the interests that kept us in our rooms doing our own thing. Susanne, who had the room next to mine but was four years older, played a lot of video games. I remember her being very excited whenever a new game came out, and when we got mail she often had a new keyboard or mouse or other computer part. Once I asked to watch how she put the computer together or played the games, but she said she didn’t like other people going in her room and touching her things. I said I didn’t like that either and didn’t bring up the topic again.

Things got stricter over time, but I didn’t really mind. I was pretty introverted and didn’t really spend too much time with other people, so when Mr. Abel made rules about only going out with special permission, I was fine with it. Most of the other kids were too. I think there were about seven of us at any given time, with new kids being adopted whenever others went off to college or boarding school or whatever. All through high school I don’t think I had a conversation about anything but school longer than maybe five minutes. Some days I found my throat was clogged up because I hadn’t spoken.

I didn’t get too bothered by it is the thing. I liked being able to have my own space and not really talk to people. I could get swallowed up by imaginary worlds and any sort of reading I wanted. Historical, murder mystery, romance, nonfiction, fantasy, science fiction, anything. I must have read hundreds upon hundreds of books in the years I was there. I stayed in that house until I was eighteen, and in that time, I don’t think I made a single friend.

I finally applied to college, and it was like jumping right into cold water. I realized, looking at everyone else, and especially my roommate, that maybe I wasn’t supposed to not have a single friend from my childhood and teenage years. I never went back to Mr. Abel’s house, either, because I had the feeling that if I did, I’d get out of the water and never get back in.

**ARCHIVIST**

Statement ends.

**ROSALIND**

Is that okay? Is there anything more I should say?

**ARCHIVIST**

This is perfectly fine. We’ll contact you with any follow-up that we go through, though it may take a while and we might not find anything.

**ROSALIND**

Thank you…for this. And that’s not problem. I just wanted to tell…someone? Someone who’d believe me that this was strange beyond just a bad foster dad.

**ARCHIVIST**

That’s what we’re here for.

[Click.]

* * *

[Click.]

**ARCHIVIST**

In following up on Ms. Baker’s statement, we found records of a large number of cases of agoraphobia and severe social anxiety from adults who had been adopted and cared for by Louis Abel. There were never any reports made to Child Protective Services, and none of the children reported the situation as an abusive situation. All in all, it’s a very strange report coming together. Additionally, I had Moss look into the situation involving Ms. Baker’s childhood. Her father was a model citizen, no priors, and apparently suddenly was convicted of child abuse, domestic abuse, and murder of both his wife and his ten year old son. It was a very cut and clean case, and Thomas Baker, Ms. Baker’s father, was recorded as very level-headed and calm during the case, but is serving an additional two life sentences for multiple additional murders during his imprisonment. He was convicted of these as of 2014, and there have been no significant updates since then other than that attempts to rehabilitate his violent behavior have ended universally in failure.

All things considered, this seems to be a series of unfortunate events pervading Ms. Baker’s life. It seems like her father was inadvertently targeted by the Slaughter, or perhaps the Hunt, though it seems as though these events reflect more of a satisfaction in the act than that of the chase. Additionally, it seems very likely that Louis Abel is an avatar of the Lonely, trying to indoctrinate young people into this same type of behavior.

One of the more interesting points I should mention is that I struggled even to add this information. To some degree, I can hardly recall my interaction with Ms. Baker. All the information is there in my head, but when I try to focus on it, it is as if Ms. Baker was nothing to be remarked upon at all. The most jovial of her words is dulled, and though I remember noting that she was nothing if not interesting, I can only conjure the image of a very average-looking woman to my mind. Additionally, Jacob, who was at the front desk when Ms. Baker came in for her statement, remarked that he did not notice when she left the office. He knows for a fact that she left, as she signed out on the sheet, but he cannot recall seeing her after she returned from her statement.

I have strong reason to believe that Rosalind Baker is very deeply affected by the Lonely, perhaps more than I thought at the time of this statement.

[Click.]

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! I am considering exploring more statement-writing in the future, as this was really fun.


End file.
